The Con is on
by FindingRainbows
Summary: When Mrs Hudson gets conned, Sherlock and John call on Mickey and his crew to get her money back but will it be as simple as they think? Hope you enjoy.
1. Sleep Interrupted

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these delightful characters.**_

_**A/N Just trying something out. Not sure where it is going to go. Hope you enjoy as always **_____

Sherlock Holmes was asleep and this made John Watson very happy. In fact the only thing that would have made John happier was if Sherlock had made it to his own bed first instead of collapsing on the sofa.

Sherlock needed to sleep. John had become increasing concerned about the consulting detective's welfare during their last case and even though that was now over, John had only succeeded in getting Sherlock to eat since.

Eating and sleeping; normal activities that most people did with very little fuss. People actually found these activities desirable sometimes. Not that Sherlock would ever understand. No, Sherlock needed to be practically forced to do either. John found that he could take care of the eating side of things but it was damned near impossible to get Sherlock to sleep. Unless he used drugs but John didn't even like to put 'Sherlock' and 'drugs' in the same sentence.

Instead John just had to wait (too long) for the moment when Sherlock's mind finally lost the battle against his exhausted body, before he could breathe a sigh of relief that the detective was getting some rest.

However with Sherlock asleep on the sofa and not in his room, John was essentially forced out of the flat- there was no way he wanted to accidently wake the man after all.

It was for this reason that John found himself knocking on Mrs. Hudson's door. Sarah was away visiting her parents and the idea of visiting Harry went as quickly as it came; he really didn't want to deal with her issues right now.

The door opened.

'Hello, Sherlock's asleep so I...Mrs Hudson?' John looked at the usually strong and cheerful lady and was alarmed to see that she was crying.

'Oh John, I've done something really silly.' Mrs Hudson gestured for John to enter her flat with tissue filled hands.

'What's happened? Are you alright?' John asked with concern.

'I should never have...Oh sorry, John. Sit down. I'll make us some tea.' Mrs Hudson suddenly seemed to want to put a brave face on but before she could leave to the kitchen John called her back;

'Mrs Hudson, what's wrong?'

The lady's shoulders seemed to drop as she turned around slowly to face him.

'I think...I think, I've been conned.'

...

John was angry. Very angry.

'John? John, why are you pacing?'

John stopped moving and sighed. Sherlock. He had completely forgotten about the sleeping detective on the sofa. The one who he had been determined not to wake.

'You're angry, why?'

John sat down in his chair heavily. Sherlock was right but John was angry for two reasons now. The second reason being the fact that he had woken up his friend. He watched as Sherlock slowly moved into a sitting position; he looked groggy and pale.

'Sorry.' John offered quietly.

'You're sorry for being angry?'

'No, I'm sorry for waking you.'

'Don't be. You should have woken me earlier. Sleeping's boring. Why are you angry?'

John could have laughed. He was angry for three reasons now. The first being Mrs. Hudson's problem, the second being at himself for waking Sherlock and the third was Sherlock's attitude. He couldn't do anything about the second reason and the third would involve getting into an argument that he wasn't in the mood for but the first reason, well, he did actually need Sherlock's help with that.

'Mrs Hudson has been conned.'

'Conned?'

'Hmmm...by a 'building company'. They got her to pay upfront for some work and...'

'They took the money and disappeared.' Sherlock finished.

'Yeah. Bastards.' John spat out the last word.

There was silence for a few seconds.

'Tell me everything.' Sherlock stated firmly.

John started at the beginning. He told Sherlock how Mrs Hudson had decided that she wanted to sort out the problems in 221c in the hope of finally finding a tenant. She had had a few different builders around for a quote and had picked based on the price, like most people would. The particular company she had picked, 'Smith and Son,' she had found through a card left in the sandwich shop window. They had come, brought some tools, asked for the money and because they had brought their tools, Mrs Hudson naturally assumed that they would return. They didn't. As Sherlock said, they took the money and disappeared. Mrs Hudson realised she had been conned when she called their number to find it had been disconnected.

'Has she informed the police?' Sherlock asked as John finished explaining.

'Yes but...' John began but Sherlock interrupted;

'They'll not be able to handle this properly.'

John glanced at Sherlock in confusion, 'I'm sorry, what?'

'The police are idiots when dealing with con artists. They are too slow. Make it more fun. Don't hit them where it hurts.'

'I'm not following...'

'If we are going to help get Mrs Hudson's money back then we don't need the police.'

'You're suggesting we take the case ourselves?'

'Urgh. No. Dull.'

'Dull?' John rolled his eyes in annoyance. Still, at least Sherlock was taking the matter seriously enough to do something.

Sherlock ignored him. 'The best way to catch a con artist is to use another con artist.'

'And let me guess, you just happen to know one?'

'Know of one, yes. Get your coat, John. We need to find Michael Stone.'

...


	2. Knowing The Code

_**A/N This is only a short chapter but a comment in a review (mentioning the grifter's code) made me think that John could probably do with a few things clarifying before they meet Mickey and his crew.**___

John sat quietly in the back of the taxi until curiosity got the better of him.

'Who is Michael Stone?'

Sherlock shot him an unimpressed look. 'A con artist. Next question.'

'No, no, I know...how do you know of him?'

'When cons go wrong, John, some grifters end up dead.'

John should have guessed. Most of the knowledge Sherlock retained was linked to death.

'But you've never met Michael Stone?'

'No, he's still alive. And not a murderer.'

John rolled his eyes. It seemed he wasn't going to get anywhere with this line of questioning. From Sherlock's vague answers, he gathered that Sherlock must have come across the name Michael Stone while investigating a murder of another con man but never met him because he was neither the victim nor a suspect. However, that raised the issue of why Sherlock had even bothered to remember Michael Stone's name at all.

'Michael Stone is the best grifter out there, John.' Sherlock stated suddenly and John, not for the first time, thought that he must have been reading his mind. 'He, and his crew, have been behind some of the biggest, most brilliant cons of recent times- they were behind the crown jewels scam for one.'

John paused before he responded with a drawn out, 'Okay.'

Sherlock turned to look at him. 'Problem?'

John sighed. 'It's just...Don't get me wrong, Sherlock, I want to get Mrs Hudson her money back but isn't calling on this Michael Stone a bit...well, isn't it a bit like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut.'

Sherlock looked puzzled. 'What do you mean?'

'The con artists who took advantage of Mrs Hudson are probably not in the same league as...' John started but Sherlock cut him off;

'I only work with the best, John.'

This made John smile. He couldn't help but take that as compliment. He only wished that Lestrade had been there to hear it too.

They sat in silence for a few minutes until John decided he had to ask something else.

'Would a con artist want to help catch another con artist?'

'Depends if they are on the same side.'

'There are different sides?'

'There is a grifter's code. Some work within the rules, some work outside of the rules.'

'A code?'

'Yes. Those that stay within the rules, like Michael Stone, choose to steal only from the greedy; people that deserve it in some way. Those that play outside of the rules con anyone they feel like.'

John nodded. As strange as this all was, he felt like he was beginning to understand; Michael Stone sounded like a modern day Robin Hood, while the bastards that conned Mrs Hudson, were exactly that: bastards.

Sherlock continued, 'Unfortunately for the Michael Stone's of this world, the grifters that play outside of the rules are the ones that most people think of. Give grifters a bad name shall we say.'

John thought about this for a moment and came to the conclusion that there were probably more grifters that didn't adhere to the code so they perhaps did deserve a bad name. He also wasn't stupid enough to believe that the rare ones that stuck to the code were completely squeaky clean either. However he decided not to argue this with Sherlock. Instead he asked his final question of the journey, 'How do we find this Stone guy then?'

'Eddie's bar.'

...


	3. Tricky and Intense

_**Disclaimer: Still not mine. **_

_**A/N Thanks to those that have reviewed and put me on their alert list **____** Hope you continue to enjoy. **_

Sherlock took a moment to glance around the room before he walked straight up the bar. John was grateful that the bar wasn't crowded; though he would never admit it, John could tell that Sherlock did not cope well in crowds. John figured it was because they made Sherlock's over-observant brain go into information overload.

'What can I get you?' The barman came over to serve them.

'Don't want a drink, thanks.'

The barman seemed momentarily caught off guard. 'Oh so...'

'Nope, just want to know where Michael Stone is.' Sherlock cut the man off.

John watched as the barman tried to fix Sherlock with a neutral expression but even John could tell that his eyes betrayed his next sentence. 'I'm sorry, mate, but I don't know who you're on about.'

Sherlock leaned closer to the man. 'Eddie, I don't like people wasting my time.'

'Look, I don't...hang on, how do you...'

'Please. Eddie's Bar. It's obvious. Now, where is Michael Stone?'

'I don't know where he is.'

'Ah,' Sherlock's eyes gleamed, 'but you do know who he is now?'

'Yes...er...no...what?'

'Ok, Sherlock,' John decided to butt in, seeing that his friend was ready to confuse to the poor barman further. He rubbed his hands over his face and then spoke to Eddie. 'You may as well just tell us what you know. We're not here to cause trouble and, well, he,' John pointed at Sherlock, 'won't stop until you tell us something.'

Sherlock smirked and Eddie shoulders dropped slightly.

'Mickey's working but he should be in here later. I can pass on a message.'

'Thank you,' John smiled.

Sherlock just leaned even closer over the bar. 'Tell him Sherlock Holmes wants to meet. The number's on the website.' He stood up straight, flashed a fake smile and then turned and swept out of the room.

John sighed. Mycroft was right; Sherlock did love to be dramatic.

...

'Eddie, we'll have a bottle of your finest champagne, please,' Mickey announced as he entered the bar, followed by his victorious crew.

'No.' Eddie replied with as much authority as he could manage.

'No?' Mickey frowned.

'No.' Eddie stated again firmly. 'You never pay for it.'

'Oh come on, Ed.' Ash responded with mock indignation.

'Yeah, we're celebrating,' Sean reasoned.

'No.' Eddie repeated again although his strength was faltering.

'Come on, Eddie.' This time it was Emma, 'We'll pay, honestly.' She fluttered her eyelashes.

'Alright, fine,' Eddie gave in, 'You better pay, though. I have to keep my books right.' He reached for a bottle and took out some glasses.

'Of course. We understand. Thank you.' Mickey repressed a smirk as Eddie poured him a glass.

'Oh, someone came in here before, Mick. Wants to meet you.' Eddie stated.

'Oh not this again,' Emma sighed, 'Mickey, you are not going off meeting strange women again.'

'Yeah, not after last time.' Ash agreed.

'This wasn't a bird.' Eddie cut in.

'Oh, eh, Mick?' Sean smiled, 'Something you want to tell us?'

Mickey ignored him. 'Who was it?'

'Well, if I had to guess...I'd say he was one of your lot...tricky and intense.'

'Ed, I'm insulted.' Ash gave him a look of mock hurt.

'You think he was a grifter?' Albert spoke for the first time since entering the bar.

'Like, I said, he was...' Eddie started.

'Did he leave a card? A message?' Mickey interrupted.

'His name's Sherlock Holmes. He wants to meet you and...oh yeah, the number's on the website. Whatever that means?'

'That's it?' Ash questioned as Mickey appeared to be thinking things over.

'That's it.' Eddie confirmed, 'His mate did say they weren't looking for trouble.'

'His mate?'

'Yeah, didn't give his name. He seemed alright though. Well, more normal at least.'

'What are you thinking, Michael?' Albert asked the man who had gone quiet.

'I'm thinking, we look up this Sherlock Holmes.'

...

'The Science of Deduction,' Ash read the title of the webpage aloud.

'Sounds like he's one of those weirdo-type of magicians. Or whatever they are.' Sean offered.

They had returned to their hotel suite after finishing their celebrations and immediately researched Sherlock Holmes on the internet.

'Weirdo-type of magicians?' Emma raised her eyebrows and sent her brother a look that clearly told him to shut up.

'What do you make of it, Mick?' Ash asked the man who was stood behind him.

Mickey glanced over the webpage again and shook his head. 'I'm not sure.'

'There is one way to find out.' Albert stated.

'Hmmm...I'll set up a meeting.' Mickey nodded as he took his phone out of his pocket.

'Great.' Emma said sarcastically as she sat down on the sofa, 'What could possibly go wrong?'

'Oh, you know, knowing our luck, he's probably an undercover police offer and we risk going to prison again,' Ash grinned in a child-like manner, 'Still, it keeps things fun, eh?'

Emma groaned. It seemed things were about to get interesting.

...


	4. Meeting

_**A/N And so they finally meet! I feel, I should explain something- you will notice that this chapter is 'Sherlock-sided' and this is because with 7 characters (well, 8 if you include Eddie) meeting each other, trying to give everyone equal space was not working. Therefore, this chapter is Sherlock and John heavy but the next one, I promise, will be 'Hustle-sided' and you will get to see just what Mickey's team think about the situation . **_

_**Also, I apologise that I tend to write mainly from John's point-of-view in the Sherlock bits but I'm almost afraid to think what goes on in our favourite detectives head, let alone try and write about it. There's enough madness in my own head, thanks. **_

_**Anyway, enough rambling. Hope you enjoy. **_

Without a case from Lestrade, John once again had to watch as Sherlock turned their kitchen at 221b into a laboratory. It was the first step towards boredom. After a case, Sherlock would almost become normal for a few days; he would eat, for one, and eventually he would sleep. However after those first few days, the experiments would begin and that's when John almost felt like going down to Scotland Yard and begging for them to give his friend a case. It wasn't that the experiments were dangerous and disruptive (although they often were), it was more that they indicated Sherlock was on the brink of unravelling; firing shots at a wall was never a good thing.

It was for this reason that John was relieved to be back in Eddie's Bar with Sherlock. Meeting the con-artists provided the detective with a much needed distraction and gave John peace of mind that at least, for now, the flat was safe.

This meeting also gave John reason to smile, after all there was no way this would be happening if it had been anyone but Mrs. Hudson who had been conned. Unless it was John himself. Or may be Lestrade. Sherlock had professed the 'case' to be 'dull', which is why he wasn't investigating it himself, but he was helping; passing it on to those equipped to handle the matter better than the police. John knew, even if Sherlock wouldn't admit it, that this was a sign Sherlock liked Mrs Hudson. John already suspected this of course but it was still reassuring to see his self-confessed sociopathic friend show, in his own way, that he was capable of caring.

'Can I...ah.' Eddie stopped talking as soon as he raised his head and saw who was at the bar.

'Er... a beer, please, and he'll have a lemonade. No wait, he'll have an orange juice.' John requested trying to ignore the rather unwelcoming glare the barman was shooting at him and Sherlock.

'Why not a lemonade?' Sherlock asked, sounding genuinely curious.

'Because I don't like the thought of you drinking alcohol and because...you remember what happened last time I got you something fizzy?' John watched as Sherlock's face registered confusion. 'Of course, what am I saying? Of course you won't remember. You've probably deleted it.'

Sherlock smirked. 'Probably.'

The drinks arrived, John paid and then they settled into a booth near the back of the room. Sherlock's phone began to ring but he silenced it quickly after briefly checking the screen.

'Not answering?' John questioned.

'Mycroft.'

'It might be important,' John dared to say.

'It's not,' Sherlock replied in a firm dismissive tone.

John thought it best to leave the matter besides Sherlock's attention had clearly shifted towards the door. 'It looks like our con-artists have arrived,' Sherlock drawled quietly. The detective made no move to get up and greet them instead he and John watched as the group went to the bar and turned to face them when Eddie pointed over.

Sherlock's eyes darted from side-to-side as he observed the group, deducing and analysing every piece of information he could gather.

John hadn't really given much thought to what the con-artists would be like but looking at them now, they were what he would have expected from watching films/television shows. There was an older gentleman, dressed impeccably in a suit, who wasn't in charge, John decided, as he was hanging in the background but he definitely held some authority. John guessed that he was more than likely the man who had 'been there and done that' so was like a fountain of knowledge and advice. On the opposite end of the spectrum, there was a young lad who, while appearing every inch the part, was probably no more than an apprentice at this stage. There was a young, attractive, woman, who John imagined, could manipulate most men in to doing exactly what she wanted. John couldn't quite figure out the rougher looking middle-aged man who was stood in the middle of the group, although something told him this man was probably a force to be reckoned with.

What was obvious was who Michael Stone was; the man's presence was that of a leader. He walked towards them oozing confidence and charm.

'Sherlock Holmes, I presume.' Mickey said as he held out his hand in greeting.

Sherlock took it, 'And you must be Michael Stone.' It wasn't a question but Mickey still nodded in response, 'This is Doctor John Watson. Colleague of mine,' Sherlock finished as he gestured to John.

Mickey shook John's hand and then went to introduce his own colleagues but Sherlock cut in, 'Please, take a seat. The sooner we begin...'

'Sherlock,' John interrupted with a trace of embarrassment. He offered an apologetic smile in the direction of the con artists before continuing, 'Mr. Stone was about to introduce...'

'We can sit first. And please, call me Mickey.' Mickey eye's were fixed on Sherlock and John could tell the man was trying to make deductions of his own.

The group filed in to sit down in the booth and there was an awkward silence for a few seconds as everyone seemed to be assessing each other.

Everyone except Sherlock; he was getting impatient now. He broke the silence and his words were surprising for all concerned, 'John, this is Albert Stroller, Ash 'Three Socks' Morgan and Emma and Sean Kennedy.' Sherlock nodded at each person correctly, John could tell by their faces. Albert looked curious, Ash and Emma looked suspicious and Sean looked rather shocked. Mickey, for his part, had managed to keep his expression neutral with only his eyes betraying an intrigue.

'Who are you?' Mickey was direct and to the point. John could tell that Mickey wasn't a man used to being the least informed party.

'You saw the website.' Sherlock answered in a typically vague manner which suggested he thought they should work it out themselves.

'Yeah, The Science of Deduction?' Ash spoke up.

'Are you a magician?'

'Sean!' Emma rolled her eyes and nudged her brother, 'Seriously, shut-up.'

John could almost feel how unimpressed Sherlock was becoming and decided to address Mickey's original question himself, 'He's a consulting detective.'

'Dectective?' Ash groaned.

'I knew it.' Emma mumbled.

Mickey raised his eyebrows, 'A _consulting_ detective?'

'Oh don't worry. I'm not about to hand you over to the police. How boring.' Sherlock said as his phone began to ring once more. He practically growled at the screen this time before turning off his phone completely, 'John, don't answer your phone.'

'What? My phone? It's not even...' John's phone started ringing in his pocket making him jump slightly. He reached for it. 'How did you..?'

'Mycroft. Again. He doesn't like me playing with con-artists.' Sherlock almost snatched John's phone in order to turn it off.

John shook his head. 'He's followed us?'

'You know my brother and his concern,' Sherlock spat.

'Sorry to interrupt.' Mickey stated in manner which contradicted his words, 'but I really don't like people wasting my time.'

Sherlock's response was a piercing glare and John felt like reminding him that he had used the exact same words to Eddie earlier in the day.

Instead, Albert lent forward, 'I think it's time for explanations.'

'Surely you're not feeling threatened, Albert?' Sherlock's tone was a blend of patronisation and smugness. John wanted to hit him and judging by the reactions around the table, he wasn't the only one. John had been mentally kicking himself ever since he used the word 'detective' in front of the con artists and now he had just added the fact that they were being followed; all things considered Albert and the rest of Mickey's crew had every right to feel threatened at this point.

'Look we're not here to cause trouble,' John said repeating his words from earlier, 'We do work with the police but that's not why we are here.'

'Why should we believe you?' Sean piped up.

Sherlock snorted but John ignored him and answered the young man sincerely, 'Because we're here to ask for your help.'

Mickey's eyes narrowed, 'You need our help?'

Before John could respond Eddie approached the booth with a phone in hand.

'I should have known,' Sherlock grumbled.

'Sorry to interrupt but...' Eddie didn't get the chance to finish as Sherlock stood up, took the phone and stepped away from the table. John overheard a venomous 'Good evening, Mycroft,' before his friend went out of earshot.

John rubbed a hand over his face suddenly feeling very tired. He remembered the days when Mycroft had had dental problems. He sometimes wished the man had teeth issues everyday; Mycroft's texts were somewhat easier to avoid.

'How did he...' Eddie sounded quite amazed.

'Please...please, don't,' John stopped him. He was in no mood to even try and begin to explain how Sherlock knew the call was for him or indeed who the caller was. Eddie sensed this and returned to bar.

There was silence again. Less awkward this time but more intense, especially for John who had five sets of eyes trained on him still waiting for clarifications.

'You were saying, you need our help,' Ash prompted.

'Yes,' John sighed, 'Yes. You see our landlady, Mrs Hudson...'

John continued as Sherlock came and sat back down beside him. When John got to the part about Mrs Hudson finding the card in the window something in the detective's brilliant brain told him he should have noticed earlier that this wasn't as simple as he first thought. But why?

...


	5. Challenged to Think

_**A/N I am trying my best to update asap but truth be told, I'm still not entirely sure where this is going and I do write everything by hand first before typing it up...old school, I know. **_

_**Hope you enjoy **___

John and Sherlock had moved to a table across the other side of the bar. After John had finished telling them about Mrs Hudson, Mickey had requested some time to discuss things alone with his crew. John had agreed to move but wasn't stupid; he knew that the con-artists probably wanted time to talk to about him and Sherlock rather than the con. Sherlock had not protested against the move either but this was more because he had seemed lost in thought about another matter ever since the phone call from Mycroft.

'So...what do we think?' Ash asked sitting forward to lean on the table.

'I don't know what to think,' Emma answered honestly.

'He's weird,' Sean said nodding over in the direction of Sherlock.

'I think 'weird' is an understatement,' Ash responded, 'his mate seems alright though.'

'Hmm...Eddie's assessment was fairly accurate,' Mickey stated.

'What? You think they're con-artists? But he said-' Sean began.

Mickey cut in, 'No, no, they're not grifters. I think they are what they say they are.'

'Ok...so what's a _consulting_ detective?' Emma asked.

'I admit, I've never heard the term before,' Albert shrugged.

'Detective though? Doesn't bode well for us does it?' Ash pointed out.

'Didn't he say the other guy, John, was a doctor?' Sean questioned.

'Yeah, but he also said he was a colleague,' Emma said.

'And they're being followed,' Sean added.

'Yeah, by his brother apparently.' Emma shook her head in confusion. Ash was right- 'weird' was an understatement.

'How did he know the phone was...' Sean started.

'I think we should help them,' Mickey interrupted with a firm authority. The rest of his crew turned to look at him; their faces clearly expressing a need for a reason. 'We can't let them get away with it,' Mickey offered.

'We don't even know who 'they' are?' Ash stated.

'Not yet. Michael is right though. Those types of grifters give us a bad name.' Albert said.

'Oh, this is to do with the 'code' again?' Emma sighed. She understood the need for the code but it didn't stop it from being irritating when used as an excuse to enter the unknown.

'It separates us from the scum who take money from innocent old ladies,' Ash stated.

'Yeah...ok...I get that,' Emma agreed, 'but because of the code, we have to agree to help two strangers who may or may not work with the police-'

'- and who are being followed,' Sean added.

'_And_ who are being followed by, well, who knows?' Emma finished. She now had a glare fixed on Mickey.

'I agree, it's not ideal,' Mickey smirked.

'Oh God. You just can't say 'no' can you?' Emma said with exasperation. Ash had to fight the urge to snort with laughter.

'Look, we haven't got anything else set up at the moment, John seems...normal, and grifters like that deserve comeuppance.' Mickey argued.

'What about Holmes?' Albert asked.

'He's...I don't know,' Mickey admitted, 'But I don't think he wants to work with us. I mean, he knows who we are so he obviously has contacts-'

'-but he's not going after the other grifters-' Ash said trying to follow Mickey's train of thought.

'-Exactly,' Mickey nodded, 'That's why I don't think he's a grifter himself and why I believe him when he says he's not here to hand us to the police.' Truth be told, Mickey didn't know what to believe about Sherlock Holmes and that was both disconcerting and rather thrilling. Mickey liked people who challenged him to think. People were usually so predictable, Mickey had manipulated enough to know, but Sherlock seemed everything but predictable.

'I'm confused.' Sean said rubbing a hand over his forehead.

'So, you think they genuinely just want our help and that's it?' Ash looked to Mickey for confirmation.

'Yes,' Mickey replied.

'Ok, Michael, what do you propose we do?' Albert enquired.

Mickey suggested they dissect the con that Mrs Hudson had been subjected to. At face value it looked simple enough but it soon became clear that this con did not appear to be a random act. The crew realised Mrs Hudson must have been specifically chosen in order for the con to not be a complete waste of time for the grifters involved. They had to have known that the building work was substantial enough to be able to undercut actual builders, to ensure her custom, and still make a decent enough profit. They'd not have gone to the trouble of buying tools only to leave them behind for the same reason. There was the fact that the card had been placed in a sandwich shop right by her home as well.

It was this last point that had made Sherlock, on the opposite side of the room, reach an unsettling conclusion.

...

'John, there is something not right about this.' Sherlock spoke for the first time in around fifteen minutes and it took John a little by surprise.

'Huh? What?' John asked.

'This wasn't random.'

'I'm not following.' John blinked at him in confusion.

'The con-artists targeted Mrs Hudson specifically.'

'How do you mean?'

'The card, John. The card. The notice board in the window of the sandwich shop faces inwards.'

'Yeah, so?'

'So, the con-artists knew that Mrs Hudson goes into the sandwich shop and checks those boards.'

'Quite a few people do that,' John pointed out.

'Yes, but they're not all old ladies who need a considerable amount of building work doing.'

'Alright...but there was still no guarantee that she'd pick that card.'

'She'd been calling all the other building companies that had advertised there,' Sherlock stated.

John scowled at him, 'Yes, well, she had to get the numbers from somewhere- you set fire to her Yellow Pages.'

'Exactly,' Sherlock exclaimed.

'Ok...you've definitely lost me now.' John frowned.

'They knew what she was doing, John. Don't you see? It all fits. They had clearly been watching her.'

'That's...creepy,' John said, 'We probably shouldn't tell Mrs Hudson that.'

'But why?'

'Why, Sherlock? Because it would probably-'

'No. Why, Mrs Hudson?' Sherlock clarified.

'I have no idea.'

'Oh...' Sherlock's eyes gleamed, 'John, I think it's him.'

'Him...?' John's shoulders dropped as a sense of realisation and dread filled his body, 'You don't mean...'

'Moriarty.'

...


	6. Dangerous Attention

_**A/N Thanks to all of you who have added me to your alerts/reviewed etc...Sorry, it's taken me so long to update but I do have an idea of where this is heading now so...Oooo ;) **_

'So...is this it then, Sherlock?' John asked after a few moments of silence.

'Is this what?'

'He said...He said that if you didn't let it go, he would burn the heart out of you- is this where it starts? With Mrs Hudson?'

'No...no, he's not hurt her enough-' Sherlock said not realising, or caring, how unkind his words sounded.

John clenched his fists in anger, 'Oh my...Sherlock! Could you please for one-'

'-No, no, John, this has got something to do with them,' Sherlock nodded over to the con-artists and then with one swift movement, stood and strode over to them. John sighed and followed behind.

'Who was your last mark?' Sherlock demanded loudly instantly grabbing the attention of Mickey and his crew.

'Excuse me?' Mickey asked calmly.

'Who was your last mark?'

'I don't think-'

'Who was it?' Sherlock's tone was sharp and almost threatening.

'Gareth Harrogate,' Mickey relented.

'And the one before that?'

'I don't see how-' Mickey began.

'-answer the question.'

'Lord Francis Daghurt.'

Sherlock dropped his head, 'I'm going to need more data,' he mumbled under his breath.

'What's going on?' Mickey said looking towards John for answers. John didn't get a chance to answer as Sherlock raised his head again with piercing, almost accusatory eyes.

'Have you heard of Moriarty? Any of you?'

The crew all gave various answers but all of them accumulating to a 'no', which Sherlock processed and decided was the truth. He dropped his gaze again.

'Look, what is this?' Ash spoke up now.

John glanced at Sherlock, who was lost in thought turning his phone back on and realised he'd have to give some sort of answer, 'Erm, it appears that... someone set up the con on Mrs Hudson so that we'd come and find you.'

'Yeah, we worked out that the con was specific. That Mrs Hudson was targeted.' Mickey said seeming to disregard the second part of what John had told him.

'Well, aren't you clever?' Sherlock said quietly, voiced laced with sarcasm.

John ignored his friend, 'Yes, yes, we came to that conclusion too but we also know who did the targeting. Well, not the actual people who did the con but...'

'What is going on here?' Mickey's patience had been tested enough and he was beginning to regret ever setting up this meeting.

'Its...I...I wish I knew,' John admitted.

Mickey was about to start questioning Sherlock when his phone started to ring.

'Hello,' he said answering the call, 'Yeah, this is Mr Stone, what...ok...ok...well, thank you for informing me. We'll return there now.'

'What's happened?' Ash asked.

'That was the hotel. Our room has been broken into, apparently.'

'What?' Sean all but gasped.

'I guess, we'll have to leave then,' Ash said giving Sherlock a look.

'We're coming with you,' Sherlock announced.

'We're what?' John raised his eyebrows.

'Yeah, I don't think you are. As...interesting as this evening as been, I think it's come to an end.' Mickey's tone left no room for arguing but he was addressing Sherlock and the detective wasn't one to give in;

'We're coming with you,' he repeated firmly.

'No, you're-' Mickey started.

'I think, you've attracted some dangerous attention, Mr Stone.'

'Wouldn't be the first time,' Emma stated. Mickey just glared at the detective as if daring him to continue speaking which he would have done if his phone hadn't beeped. Sherlock checked the message; _Crime is costly in more ways than one. Hope you like your new friends? M_

'Are we leaving then?' Sean asked. He was thoroughly confused.

'Yes, we are,' Mickey stated and he began moving to the door. The rest of his crew moved too.

'Wait!' Sherlock said loudly, 'We have to come with you.' He handed his phone to John so he could read the message. John's stomach flipped as he did so.

Mickey turned back around and decided that he would try a different tact, 'Look, we're sorry about your landlady but-'

'We need to come with you,' John said suddenly. He took a breath and continued, 'Sherlock's right, you've attracted some dangerous attention. The hotel room is probably just the start.'

Mickey's eyes narrowed. 'Are you saying you know who broke into our room?'

'Not exactly,' John replied.

Mickey rubbed his forehead, 'I'm going to ask you this one more time; who the hell are you?'

'He's a doctor and I'm a consulting detective,' Sherlock replied flatly, 'I assure you, that answer is not going to change.'

'Then what the hell is going on?' Ash stepped back into the conversation forcefully.

'Ah, now, that answer is not available at present,' Sherlock said vaguely and with a hint of excitement at this new puzzle.

'Sherlock, you're not helping,' John rolled his eyes. Again it seemed it was on him to provide an explanation so he tried, 'Look, there's this criminal who we've been after for some time and it seems he wanted us to find you; that's what conning our landlady was for. But, we don't know why? Why he wanted us to meet you, I mean... and... and he's dangerous. Extremely dangerous...'

'And now our hotel room has been broken into...' Albert mused.

'Exactly. So shall we go?' Sherlock asked impatiently.

Everyone was silent for a moment. Mickey had dropped his head slightly in the same way Sherlock did when he was thinking. John looked at the members of his crew; Albert, Ash and Emma were watching Mickey intently waiting for his response but Sean had clearly given up trying to follow the night's proceedings. John didn't blame the lad; his own head was swimming.

'Fine. Let's go to the hotel.' Mickey decided giving Sherlock a curt nod before once again moving towards the door.

'Wait, what?' Emma was surprised; she hadn't thought Mickey would agree.

'Yeah, are you sure about this Mick?' Ash called after his friend, who was now being followed by the others, 'Well, this should be fun,' he groaned quietly before heading for the door himself.

'Hey! Hey! Where are you going? You haven't paid for your drinks!' Eddie shouted in the background.

...


	7. Intrigue

Disclaimer- Sherlock and Hustle are not mine. Still.

_**A/N Sorry it's been a while. Hope you enjoy...**_

They departed to the hotel in different taxis but arrived at the same time. Mickey led the way into the foyer to be greeted by the very apologetic hotel manager;

"Mr. Stone, I'm so sorry about this. We do not for a second believe that you left the room in this...condition. However, as I said on the phone, we have yet to inform the police..."

"Detective Inspector Lestrade," Sherlock said, suddenly producing a badge and flashing it quickly but confidently, in front of the managers face, "I hope you understand that Mr. Stone wants this dealt with as quickly as possible so he called me. My colleague," he gestured to John, "and I will take it from here. Of course, we'll keep you informed; you may wish to assess your hotel security."

The manager seemed thrown for a moment, "Erm...yes, of course, I..."

Mickey had also been caught off guard by Sherlock but he was so used to improvising that he composed himself swiftly, "Sorry, Mr. Hood, but this incident isn't, unfortunately, isolated. My offices were vandalised last week so I thought it best to contact the police straight away. I trust that this is ok?"

"Erm...well, yes," Mr Hood glanced between Mickey and Sherlock, "I shall leave you to it then. We left the room as it was and there is a security guard outside your door- I'll let him know you're on your way up. Once again, I can only apologise and we will indeed be reassessing our security."

"We will keep you informed," Sherlock repeated.

"Right, yes." Mr Hood turned to address just Mickey, "We have other rooms available for you to move into if necessary. Please let us know if you require anything else."

"Thank you," Mickey said, sincerely.

They all began to make their way to the lift leaving the hotel manager, looking and feeling somewhat rejected, behind them. Once in the lift, Emma broke the silence; "What was that about? DI Lestrade?" she asked Sherlock.

"Yes, well, given your line of work, I presumed that informing the real police wouldn't be ideal but not informing the police would appear suspicious to the hotel; I solved the problem," Sherlock drawled.

"Hmm...That was nice of you," Mickey said, flatly. Truth be told, he did have to grudgingly accept that Sherlock had indeed made things easier for them, albeit by once again acting in a manner that raised questions.

"Bit convenient that you had a badge..." Ash began.

"Yeah, where did you get that?" Sean asked, cutting in and pointing at the badge in Sherlock's hand.

"He stole it," John said, unimpressed, shooting a glare in his friend's direction.

"You stole a police badge?" Sean said, with a hint of awe.

Sherlock ignored Sean and just shrugged at John, "He was being annoying."

John rolled his eyes. "Sherlock, you're annoying."

"You stole a police badge?" Sean repeated.

"Don't you be getting any ideas," Ash said firmly.

Sherlock reached into his pocket and produced another badge; he held it out to Sean, "Here, you can be DS Evan's if you like."

Sean took the badge eagerly, "Ah, thanks."

"Er, I'll have that," Ash said, taking the badge.

"Ash," Sean whined.

"You are not going around flashing stolen police badges," Ash told him.

"Ash is right, Sean," Emma agreed. She gave Sherlock a disapproving glance.

"He gets to," Sean said, nodding towards Sherlock.

John snorted, "Believe me; you don't want to use him as an example."

"Says the man who carries a stolen gun," Sherlock said as the lift doors opened. He was the only one who moved though; everyone else had turned to face John in various states of surprise.

"Sherlock!" John rubbed his face with his hands, "I do not have a gun, ok?" he told Mickey and his crew firmly, "He's...kidding. Shall we go." John stepped out of the lift and followed Sherlock down the corridor.

"Kidding? Not really funny," Sean mumbled, before he too left the lift.

"You owe us a holiday after this," Emma told Mickey as she walked past him.

"It would be nice to know what 'this' is," Ash pointed out as he followed Emma.

Mickey tilted his head back and sighed only to notice Albert had not moved and was looking at him intently, "I know that this is..."

"Michael, I'm not here to tell you what to do anymore..."

"But..." Mickey said and Albert smiled.

"Don't let intrigue rule your head." With that, Albert left the lift. Mickey caught the door as it went to close, took a breath and then went to join the others.

The hotel room was a mess; table's tipped upside down with everything that stood on them strewn across the floor and all the vases and lamps had been smashed and glass was all over the sofas which had been stripped of their cushions.

"Oh, lovely," Emma said, scowling as she looked around the room.

"Has anything been taken?" Sean asked.

"We'll have to check," Ash stated.

"Don't bother," Sherlock said. He was walking around the room in the same way he would a crime scene, "Nothing has been taken. This is just a message."

"A message?" Mickey questioned from the doorway.

Sherlock suddenly stopped moving and focused his attention on a partition wall, "Oh yes, this is definitely a message."

"What are you looking at?" John asked as he navigated the cluttered floor to stand beside Sherlock. Pinned onto the wall were two photographs; one of a beaten man tied to chair and the other of Scotland Yard. Above the photographs were written the words;

_Money. Murder. Mayhem. Match made in heaven or hell?_ _M _

...


	8. Forced to Play

_**A/N I'm back! I can't apologise enough for the delay but 2010 ended with my laptop breaking and well, 2011 has been...interesting so far. I'm just going to say "Swine flu and hospital" and leave it at that... **_

John stared at the wall as though willing the message to vanish, "This is not good," he muttered quietly.

"Oh my God, that's Gareth Harrogate," Emma suddenly exclaimed from behind Sherlock and John. She was pointing at the picture of the man.

"Where?" Mickey asked, as he moved closer.

Sherlock took out his phone and quickly dialled a number. The call was answered almost straight away,

"Sherlock, I was just about to call you," Lestrade sounded flustered.

"What's happened?"

"There's been a security alert at the Yard; you wouldn't happen to know anything about it?"

"Yes; it's him."

"Him?" There was a pause, "Oh hell, you mean..."

"Yes."

"Sherlock, what..."

"How serious is the alert?"

"Serious, Sherlock. They've locked down part of the building. I don't know the detail; I'm on the outside."

"Damn!"

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just..." Sherlock ran a hand roughly through hair, "Damn!"

"Sherlock?" Lestrade was concerned, "What's going on?"

"Be at 221 in half an hour."

Lestrade sighed but agreed and then hung up.

John raised his eyebrows, "Do I want to know?"

"Scotland Yard is in lockdown."

"That's not good," John sighed, "And the 'damn' part, what was that about?"

"Mycroft."

"What?"

"We're going to need him," Sherlock groaned and then muttered quietly, "He's making it less fun."

"Excuse me?"

"Moriarty. He's making me work with... people," Sherlock said in disgust and he cast a frustrated glance over towards the con-artists who were in quiet discussion with each other.

If the situation wasn't so serious, John would have laughed, "Well, may be you will start learning how to play nice."

"'Nicely'. And I'm not a child, John," Sherlock huffed.

"That could be up for debate."

"Shut up."

There was an obvious and rather loud cough from beside Sherlock and John which caused them both to abruptly turn to look at its perpetrator, "Oh sorry, did I interrupt?" Mickey asked sarcastically. He gestured towards the message on the wall and in a serious, dark tone he continued, "An explanation. Now. If you don't mind?"

"Yeah," Ash stepped up to stand next to Mickey, "And no more of the being vague bollocks."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "There a psychopath, Moriarty, who likes games. Dangerous games and it seems like you've been picked to play one. Congratulations."

Ash narrowed his eyes and took a threatening step forward, "See that still seems vague to me."

"Ok, ok," John cut in before Sherlock could respond and the situation got any more hostile, "Moriarty is a consulting criminal; he organises crime but without getting his hands dirty. He also, like Sherlock said, likes to play dangerous games. You remember those London bombings last year?"

Mickey nodded, "Yeah."

"That was him."

"No," Emma shook her head, "They said it was terrorists."

"Well, it was...sort of. Look, it's complicated," John was annoyed that he couldn't think of how to explain it better but the truth was something he often couldn't believe himself; it really was just one highly-intellectual psychopath whose idea of fun was causing devastation and destruction. And that highly-intellectual psychopath had found a genius, self-diagnosed highly functioning sociopath, who was intent on beating him, making it more entertaining in his sick head.

"How are we involved?" Albert asked from across the room. He had pulled up a chair and until now just been watching and listening intently.

John instantly knew from the way Sherlock turned to look at Albert with a glint in his eye that the older gentleman had asked a 'right' question. "You are the money," Sherlock responded, "I need more detail but right now, I would guess that Mr Harrogate here will be needing you to pay his ransom."

"Why should we do that?" Albert pressed.

"Because the consequences of you not helping will reach further than you could ever imagine."

"This is all a bit dramatic, isn't it?" Sean said, a disbelieving chuckle escaping his lips.

"Sean," Emma said in a warning tone. She had been watching Mickey and could tell that he was beginning to take this very seriously.

"If you are right," Mickey started, looking Sherlock right in the eye, "Then what do we do now?"

"You get together all the information you have on Gareth Harrogate, pack up everything else you need from here and bring it with you to our flat."

Mickey thought on this for a moment, took a breath and then faced his team, "Do as he says."

As the team began to move about the room and talk amongst themselves both Sherlock and John took out their phones.

"I'm going to warn Mrs Hudson," John told Sherlock.

"What? Why?"

"Because, in the next half an hour, there are going to be a considerable amount of people turning up at her building and if they need to stay, we may need to borrow her spare room."

"Oh."

"Who are you calling?"

"Mycroft."

...


	9. Too Many in 221b

**A/N Well, well, well...here we are again...**

There were a lot of people in the living room at 221b Baker Street. A lot more people than normal, anyway. Certainly a lot more than Sherlock was used to. All of these people were making far too much noise.

"ENOUGH!" Sherlock shouted. The room went very quiet.

John took a step towards his friend and tentatively reached out and touched his arm, "Sherlock..."

"I can't think, John"

"Right, yes," John said understandingly, "We do need to get a bit more organised."

"I need to know what is going on," stated Lestrade firmly.

"You need to shut-up," Mickey responded harshly.

Mickey and his crew had followed Sherlock and John back to the flat as instructed and all was going well- the crew were gathering their Gareth Harrogate information ready to 'present' it- until Lestrade had arrived. Lestrade recognised Mickey straight away; everyone in the force knew who they were even if it wasn't their departments job to catch them. Mickey, for his part, had also not taken the arrival of Scotland Yard personal positively and what followed was an argument. The argument that caused Sherlock to erupt.

"I can not work with these people, Sherlock. It's bad enough that I consult with you," Lestrade rubbed a tired hand across his head.

"We aren't exactly thrilled about the prospect of working with you either," Emma stated.

"Ok, ok," John stepped in, "Can we not start again, please?"

"Should I make us all a cup of tea?" Mrs Hudson interjected from the doorway.

" I'll have one please," Sean replied, "Two sugars."

"Sean," Emma sighed but Mrs Hudson pottered off to the kitchen.

The room fell silent once more.

"Moriarty is back, Lestrade," Sherlock broke the quiet with a low but clear tone, "Mickey and his crew have caught his attention. This is a game we all have to play together. Whether we like it or not."

"Are we sure it is him?" Lestrade pointlessly questioned. Sherlock answered with a glare.

"Sherlock Holmes!" Mrs Hudson cried suddenly from the kitchen. Everyone in the room turned to look at the detective wondering what he had done. Only one person thought he knew;

"You haven't moved the foot from the fridge yet have you?" John groaned.

"I wasn't finished with it," Sherlock shrugged, "Although, I think Mrs Hudson is refering to the teeth in the sugar jar."

"Teeth in the..." John shook his head.

"How do you live with him?" Lestrade asked John, not for the first time, as Mrs Hudson entered the living room and began waving her finger at her body-part collecting tenant;

"I told you. I told you, Sherlock. If you are going to bring body parts into this flat then they are to be put in appropriate containers and labelled accordingly."

John didn't think it was possible for people to look anymore confused than Mickey's crew did now. Confused and in some cases rather horrified.

"I think I'll skip the tea, thanks,' Sean gulped, earning a small chuckle from both John and Lestrade.

"You know, Mick, I have followed you into some situations but this is definitely the wierdest so far," Emma stated.

"Here, here," Ash agreed.

Albert cleared his throat, "I think we have all got off track somewhat."

Sherlock turned and regarded the old man for a second. Before he had chance to talk, Mickey began, "I am beginning to wonder what on Earth possessed me to come here and I hate doubting myself so if we don't get back on track, as Albert said, then we will be leaving."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the con artist, then he straightened his back ever so slightly more than usual, "Tell me everything about Gareth Harrogate."

...


	10. Taking Turns to Waltz

"Well, he's a..." Ash began but was interrupted by a well dressed man strolling into the room swinging an umbrella.

"Gareth Harrogate is a 45 year old banker who was kidnapped 2 days ago and is still being held for a ransom of half a million pounds," Mycroft said as he passed over a file to Sherlock, he then turned towards the con-men, "Sorry for my interruption."

"And you are?" Mickey asked.

"Mycroft Holmes," Mycroft held out his hand which Mickey shook somewhat reluctantly.

"Hang on. Holmes?" Ash questioned.

"Hmm, yes, Sherlock is my dear little brother."

Sherlock did not react to his brother's sarcastic tone; his attention was on the file. Lestrade pointed at the paperwork, "Erm...How did you get hold of that?"

"Are you seriously asking that question?" John replied giving the inspector a pointed look.

Lestrade huffed, "There must be somewhere that is off limits to the Holmes brothers."

"We need to pay the ransom," Sherlock said firmly to the room at large, "Gareth Harrogate is important for some reason. We need to get him back."

"The police don't give into ransoms," Lestrade stated.

"Yes," Mycroft agreed, "Except, the police are no longer handling this case."

"Wait, I see where this is going," Mickey fixed his glare on the elder Holmes, "We are not doing it."

A few glances of confusion were shared between some occupants of the room but both Holmes men knew what the conman meant.

"I'm afraid, you don't have a choice," Mycroft spoke; his tone dark, "We have regrettably not been able to deal with Moriarty appropriately and so these _games _must be played."

"Well, you can play them on your own," Mickey's voice was beginning to rise.

"I'm afraid that isn't an option," Mycroft sneered back.

"Oh, come on, what exactly are you going to do?" Ash laughed hollowly.

"I wouldn't go there if I were you," John muttered. Mickey turned to look at him.

"Are you threatening us now?" Albert quirked his brow.

John held his hands up, "I'm not threatening anyone."

Mickey took a step forward towards Mycroft, "We are not raising half a million pounds to pay a ransom."

"Oh I think you are," Mycroft bit back.

"And again I ask, what are you going to do about it if we refuse?" Ash also moved towards Mycroft.

"You won't refuse."

"Oh, won't we?" Sean joined in, stepping up next to Ash.

Suddenly a shout rang through the room, "Stop this! Stop this now!"

Everyone turned to see a furious looking Mrs Hudson standing at the edge of the kitchen with her hands on her hips, "You 'men' need to grow up!"

"I agree," Emma said walking to stand by the land lady, "I mean, you may has well just pull your pants down and have done with it."

Mrs Hudson blinked, "Yes...well...that's not quite how I would have put it but...honestly, you 'men'...you need to put your bloody egos to one side and start listening to each other. Starting with you," she pointed at the con-men, specifically Mickey, "You need to realise that you are involved now whether you want to be or not; accept it." She turned to face Mycroft, "You need to stop waltzing into rooms and ordering people about."

John and Lestrade both chuckled at that comment earning a stare and their own telling off, " And you two," Mrs Hudson began, "You two shouldn't let it get this far. You are the responsible ones!"

"Sorry, Mrs Hudson," John was serious again instantly, "You're right."

"Good, ok," Mrs Hudson sighed taking her hands off her hips, "John, you may want to check on Sherlock."

John frowned and looked around. It became apparent that he, and indeed no one else in the room, had noticed that Sherlock had disappeared.

"He is in his room," Mycroft said knowingly and, if John didn't know better, with a hint of sadness.

"Right," John nodded as he turned and left.

...

The door to Sherlock's room was not shut completely so John just pushed it gently and slid inside. Sherlock was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes closed, with his hands in a prayer position under his chin.

"You ok?" John asked rather tentatively.

"Couldn't think properly," Sherlock answered, "Has Mycroft issued a threat yet?"

John smiled, "It didn't quite get that far; Mrs Hudson told us all off."

Sherlock opened his eyes and tilted his head, "Mrs Hudson told Mycroft off?"

"Told him to stop, "waltzing into rooms and ordering people about."

Sherlock smirked, "I wish I had been there."

John snorted,"Yeah... except..."

"Except, what?"

"Well, you are usually guilty of the same thing."

"I don't 'waltz'"

"You do a bit."

Both men stared at each other for a moment before sharing a smile.

"You coming back out?" John gestured towards the door.

Sherlock didn't reply.

"We should see if Mickey and his crew...gang...whatever... could stay somewhere else. That would lessen the amount of people around here."

Again Sherlock was quiet. John sighed, not quite knowing what to do or say but he continued, "We could send Lestrade with them; you know, just to make sure that they actually do the job. Although, I'm sure Mycroft will have them..."

"He'll keep coming back, John," Sherlock interrupted quietly but purposefully.

John looked at his friend. He understood.

Sherlock stood quickly, startling John out of his momentary daze, "I think, it's my turn." 

"Excuse me?" John blinked.

"I think it's my turn to, what was it? "Waltz into a room and order people about"?" Sherlock moved to the door.

John couldn't help the grin that formed on his face as he followed the revived detective out of the room, "I'm right behind you."

...

When they reached the living room, it became obvious that not much had been said in their absence but the room had relaxed to a degree as everyone bar Mrs Hudson had sat down.

"Right, here's what's going to happen," Sherlock stated firmly, "Mickey and his crew are going to set up a con to raise the half a million required to get Gareth Harrogate back. Lestrade, you are going to help me and John, by questioning those close to Mr Harrogate- we need as much information as possible if we are going to piece this together. Mycroft, you will..."

"The lockdown at Scotland Yard is being dealt with," Mycroft butted in, rolling his eyes. "Nice to see you back, little brother," he said as he stood up, "We'll speak soon. Good evening, everyone." And with that he left.

"What is the time scale?" Mickey asked.

"As quickly as possible," John answered glancing at Sherlock who nodded.

"Ok, I'll come back in the morning," lestrade said as he checked his phone and started moving to the door, "Let me know if anything changes."

"Find out who was involved in the investigation of Harrogate's kidnap," Sherlock told him.

"I'll see what I can do," Lestrade said before making his decent down the stairs.

"So...where are we going?" Sean leaned forward in his chair.

John looked at Sherlock who shrugged noncommittally.

"Well, my spare room has two single beds; my nephews like to come and stop," Mrs Hudson said.

"My room is upstairs," John offered, "I can take the couch."

"Someone may as well sleep in my bed," Sherlock said.

"You should sleep in your bed," Mrs Hudson told him pointedly.

"Ok," Emma took control, "Me and Sean will take Mrs Hudson's spare room. Mickey and Ash, you can sort yourselves out in John's room and Albert, you can take Sherlock's."

"Why do I have to share a room with Mick? He snores, you know," Ash groaned.

"We could just find a hotel," Mickey stated but he caught the quick glare Sherlock shot in his direction. "But I guess that wouldn't be playing the game," he amended grudgingly, leaving John wondering just what had gone on in the time when he was out of the room.

"What I want to know is," Albert drawled, "is Sherlock's room a safe place to sleep?"

Sherlock face registered confusion and John held back a laugh, "It is. It's the only place he keeps tidy."

"Hmm, unfortunately," Mrs Hudson grumbled quietly.

Emma suddenly realised she hadn't factored someone in, "Erm, where is Sherlock going to sleep?"

"Wherever he crashes in a few days time," John told her.

...


	11. Boring means BOOM!

A/N Sorry- I posted the wrong version up the first time. Only minor differences.

John sat in the kitchen and tapped his phone on the table top impatiently. It was 6am; it should have been done by now. He briefly considered phoning Mycroft but then his thoughts were interrupted by Ash.

"Don't mind if I get a glass of water?" Ash asked.

John looked up, "Oh, no, help yourself"

Ash nodded, "Glasses?"

John stood up, reached into a cupboard and handed a glass over. When Ash had filled it with water he took the seat opposite to John.

"Is there really a foot in your fridge?"

John snorted slightly, "Have a look if you want?"

So Ash did; closing the fridge door a lot quicker than he opened it, "Yep, that is a foot."

"I don't know how your stomach handles that," Ash cringed sitting back down. John just shrugged.

"Army. Doctor. Seen worse," He explained, "Although, I'd prefer they weren't randomly around the flat."

"Tell him to stop bringing them," Mickey told him as he entered the kitchen.

John didn't bother to answer him; he wasn't exactly pleased with Mickey. He knew he should blame the crew as a whole but he found his anger was directed more at Mickey. He checked his phone again. Still nothing.

"What're you doing up?" Ash asked Mickey who had moved to sit beside him, "You were snoring like a bloody train ten minutes ago."

Mickey shot his friend a glare, "Been thinking."

"That's dangerous," Ash joked.

"We had a mark we left on ice a few weeks ago," Mickey ignored him, "Justin Barrow."

"Ah, Justin Barrow, "Albert mused as he came into the room, "Terrible poker player."

Mickey smiled, "That could just be the thing that works in our favour."

Albert raised his eyebrows, "Sounds like you have a plan."

"How exactly do you choose a mark?" John interjected; his question born more out of a need for distraction rather than curiosity. Also, it would hopefully prevent eny questions regarding the whereabouts of Sherlock.

"You got to find someone who wants something for nothing," Albert began.

"And then give them nothing for something," Ash finished taking a sip of water like it was the end of a toast.

Whilst John processed this, Mickey added, "You can't cheat an honest man. You look for greed."

John shook his head and then chuckled lightly, "Have you lot ever had proper jobs?"

"Who says this isn't a proper job?" Ash smirked.

John rolled his eyes, "You know what I mean."

"What about you?" Albert drawled.

"I did my time," John stated, "And now...well, life is a bit more interesting." He glanced at his phone again.

Ash snorted softly, "We read your blog. "Interesting' is one word for it."

The men sat in silence for a moment then they all turned to the hallway as the front door banged open down the stairs.

A few minutes later, two men appeared.

"Eddie?" Ash exclaimed as the man walked wordlessly passed him and almost instinctively to a comfortable chair in the lounge. John jumped up and followed him, picking up a conveniently placed blanket and draping it over his shoulders.

Sherlock, who had entered behind Eddie, began shrugging off his coat.

"Sherlock," John gritted, "You were meant to text me the moment you were done."

"I did," the detective replied.

"You didn't."

"Didn't I?"

"Sherlock!"

"Would anyone care to explain?" Mickey questioned. He was now stood in front of Eddie with the other members of his crew.

Before Sherlock or John could respond, Eddie raised his head, "Why is it that I always get dragged into whatever cockeyed things you decide to do? You'll be the death of me one day." He laughed hollowly, "You very nearly were."

"Ed, what are you babbling on about?" Ash asked putting his hand on his friends shoulder.

"Moriarty strapped him to a bomb and threatened to blow him up," Sherlock stated darkly turning to fix his piercing glare on Mickey, "Because of you."

"Excuse me?" If Mickey was intimidated by Sherlock, he didn't show it.

"You didn't think your 'research' would go unnoticed did you?"

Again Mickey didn't react, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh really," Sherlock growled, he raised his brow and then turned away in order to pick up his violin. He continued nonchalantly "So you didn't send a request to your...acquaintances asking them for any information they could gather on Moriarty."

Mickey's head tilted slightly to the side and John knew that Sherlock had got him. Mickey knew it too.

"Did you expect us to just willing co-operate with you?"

Sherlock smirked, "No, hence why I knew your friend would be in trouble."

"You pissed him off," John added, then clarified, "Moriarty; you pissed him off."

"There was a message, Mick," Eddie cut in quietly but firmly, "It was; 'the con-men being boring may make things go boom'... I had a bomb...a bloody bomb strapped to my chest." His last sentence was shaky and John stepped forward to check him over.

"You'll be alright," John stated, "Just a bit of shock."

Mickey and his crew seemed to be rendered speechless.

"Holy..." Ash said almost in a whisper as he squeezed his hand on the barman's shoulder in support.

"You saved him?" Albert was watching Sherlock intently.

"I did what had to be done," Sherlock responded plainly before he began to play.

Nobody spoke. Nobody really moved. The only sound in 221b was that of a sombre violin.

...


	12. Breakfast Plans

"This is marvellous," Ash stated as he began chomping on the breakfast that had been placed in front of him.

"Here, here" Sean agreed.

"Thank you for all this, Mrs Hudson," Albert added flashing a smile at the housekeeper that made her blush like a school-girl.

"Oh it was no bother. You need to eat. Speaking of which, where is Sherlock?"

John shook his head, "No idea but no doubt he'll have me rushing around later so this is very much appreciated." He stuck a rather large forkful of bacon into his mouth and hummed contentedly.

"Sorry to bring this up again," Emma said exasperated; she had been trying to get the whole story for half an hour but the five men sat round the table seemed to have focused their attention on food, "But Eddie was nearly blown up?"

Mickey put down his fork and nodded, "Yes, it appears that our contacts tipped off Moriarty."

"Who sent a message to Sherlock," John continued, "Sherlock put two and two together and well..."

"He saved Eddie's life," Emma finished.

"Where is Ed?" Sean asked.

"Asleep in Sherlock's room" John told him, "He was in a bit of shock but he'll be alright."

Emma sighed, "Thank goodness. I guess that means we're in with the plan then?"

"We're going to get the money, yes," Mickey confirmed. He turned to look at John, "I should apologise for-"

"Stop," John interrupted, all earlier anger had disappeared, "You don't need to apologise for not co-operating with Sherlock, putting Sherlock's life at risk or anything else you were thinking of saying. He doesn't exactly help his own case sometimes."

Mickey smiled; after the events of last night, he and his crew were beginning to warm to John and although Sherlock was still annoyingly enigmatic, they did owe him some trust after he came to their friend's aid.

"So," Ash said, "Are we still thinking of Justin Barrow?"

"Unfortunately he's unavailable at the moment" Albert explained, "Cyclops tracked him down. He's in prison."

"Ah," Ash groaned, "Any other options?"

Mickey nodded, "Frank Thumble."

"Who's that?" Sean asked.

Before Mickey could answer someone else cut in, "Frank Thumble is a barrister, in his mid-to-late 60's. He loves collecting antiques more than anything else in his life, including his children, of which he has three, all from separate wives, none of them he is currently with, the latest split was because he had an affair with his secretary- not very original- and he can be frequently found walking his frankly pitifully small dog, who he also loves more than his children, across Regents Park."

While Mickey and his crew stared at Sherlock in various degrees of surprise, John rolled his eyes and Mrs Hudson smiled, "Oh good, Sherlock, you're just in time for some breakfast."

"No, thank you, Mrs Hudson"

The landlady shook her head and sighed, "You ought to look after yourself. No sleep. No food. Honestly."

"Where have you been?" John asked as his friend shrugged off his coat and sat down.

"Thinking," Sherlock replied curtly.

"Right," Emma started shaking off the strangeness of the last few minutes, "I take it we are going for the antiques angle then?"

"Precisely," Mickey said, "Emma- you can do background information. Sean- likes/dislikes etc. Ash- antiques. What's hot and what's not? What can we 'sell' to him? And Albert...we need to get you a dog."

"I'll borrow Betty's," Albert stated.

Mrs Hudson bristled, "Betty?"

"Just a friend," Albert clarified and Mrs Hudson blushed again. John looked between the pair and smiled at the obvious attraction.

"This all needs to be done quickly," Mickey reminded them all.

"Emma and Sean can meet with Mycroft in an hour," Sherlock stated.

"Excuse me?" Emma turned to face the consulting detective.

"You were put in charge of details concerning Frank Thumble, were you not?" Sherlock drawled, "Mycroft has his file ready. He texted me the basics but there is much more information available."

"What exactly does your brother do?" Sean asked.

"Mycroft is the British Government."

"No, I'm pretty sure that's David Cameron," Sean responded.

John snorted rather loudly into his cup of tea causing everyone to turn to look at him, "Sorry, it's just..."

"David Cameron is Prime Minister. My brother is the Government."

"Or the CIA," John added, "When his feels like it."

"The most dangerous man you will ever meet," Sherlock finished, his bored tone contrasting with his words.

Ash sniffed, "Funny, I was beginning to think that was you."

Sherlock eyes flashed but he was interrupted from responding by Lestrade, who entered the room with numerous files under his arms, "It's my experience that you have to keep your wits about you when you are with either Holmes brother but this one," Lestrade gestured towards Sherlock, "Well, he is more a danger to himself than anything."

"Are these the Gareth Harrogate files?" Sherlock said reaching for the papers, the mere sight of which had completely distracted him from what Lestrade said.

"Yeah, I gathered everything I could when I could finally get in the building," Lestrade sat down heavily in a chair, rested his head back and closed his eyes. He had had next to no sleep since he'd heard about the Scotland Yard shut-down.

"It seems our victim had got himself into some trouble after you conned him," Sherlock mused flicking his eyes over the files, "I think we should interview the sister first, John."

"Alright," John said getting up and placing his plate on the sink.

Ash got up and did the same, "I better get researching, I'll be back as soon as. You coming with Albert? We can go past Betty's?"

"Yup. I'll keep you posted, Michael," Albert said clasping a hand on the younger man's shoulder as he and Ash said their goodbyes and left.

"Where is Mycroft's?" Emma asked.

"He'll send a car when he's ready for you," John answered as he went to sit by Sherlock at the desk.

Sean glanced around the room at the remaining men- Sherlock, John and Mickey had begun a conversation and Lestrade appeared to now be fully asleep. He looked back towards his sister, "What do we do until then?"

"Well," Mrs Hudson put her hand on the young man's shoulder and directed his attention to the sink, "those dishes won't wash themselves and I have some washing that could do with hanging out."

Emma smiled, "Ok, we'll help."

"We will?" Sean shot her an unimpressed look.

"It's the least we can do, Sean," Emma said pointedly, "Now come on, you wash and I'll dry."

...


	13. A Dsyfunctional Family

John was accustomed to his flat being chaotic so he shouldn't have been surprised to come home to this; Ash was sat at the desk using their printer for what must have been the umpteenth time judging by the paper that surrounded him, Sean was playing tug-of-war with a dog on the floor, Emma and Mickey were sticking up plans on the wall, Eddie and Mrs Hudson were making dinner in the kitchen and Albert appeared to be haggling with someone over the phone. In the midst of all this activity, John noted Sherlock and Lestrade's absence but also the fact that there was a truly awful statue of a unicorn in the middle of the room,

"What is this?" John asked.

"A statue," Ash answered not looking up, "Specifically the one we are going to sell to Frank Thumble. Well, not that one exactly."

"Right," John shook his head, "Where is Sherlock?"  
"He went with Lestrade to look around Harrogate's flat," Mickey told him, "He said something about missed evidence."  
"Of course he did," John stated as he moved to sit down in his chair.

"Oh, John, you're home. Would you like a cup of tea?" Mrs Hudson was already popping the kettle on.

"I would love one, thanks," John smiled. He sat and watched the conmen for a few minutes, "I take it you have a plan now?"

"Hmm," Mickey moved to sit down opposite the doctor, "Not quite as detailed as I would like but-"

"Done," Albert exclaimed interrupting Mickey as he hung up his phone, "We have a deal."

"Excellent," Mickey responded, "Now all we need to do is set up the auction house."

"Auction house?" John asked taking his tea thankfully as Mrs Hudson passed it over.

"Yes. We are holding a fake auction to sell a fake statue," Ash somewhat explained.

John rubbed a hand across his eyes, "I'm not sure I want to know."

"Is Harry well?" Mrs Hudson lent on the side on John's chair.

"She is actually; let's just hope it lasts." Although Moriarty was back playing his games, John was adamant that he would keep his promise to visit his sister at her new flat so he and Sherlock had parted ways after their meeting with Gareth Harrogate's sister. That meeting had proved that Gareth Harrogate had indeed got himself into some trouble; after being conned he had begun gambling to try and increase his wealth again but luck had not been on his side and a few weeks later he was threatening his own sister for money.

"Do you think Betty would let me keep him?" Sean's muffled voice just about broke through the fact that there was a dog sat on top of him.

Emma sighed, "You couldn't look after a dog. You can barely look after yourself."

"Yeah, you'd get bored and then we'd have to deal with him," Mickey parented.

"I wouldn't" Sean protested and then laughed as the dog's nose tickled his face, "Hey, John, have you ever been to Mycroft's office?"

"Too many times," John told him, "Why?"

"It's...it's...I mean..." Emma couldn't quite find the right words.

John chuckled, "Yeah, I know."

The next half hour passed in a hustle and bustle of activity and it was only as Mrs Hudson and Eddie were ready to serve dinner that the tell tale sign of Sherlock's footsteps could be heard up the stairs.

"Do you think we could get him to eat?" Mrs Hudson whispered to John before the younger man entered the flat.

"We'll give it a go," John replied quietly before greeting his friend normally as he finally came into the room, "Hey, you've been gone a while."

"Yes," Sherlock said. He stood still in the doorway and scanned the living room carefully, "Are you sure that you can pull the con off quickly?"

Mickey raised his eyebrows but he was becoming accustomed to having half-conversations with the detective, "It will be a push but we like a challenge."

Sherlock nodded, "Good." He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a photograph, "This was at Gareth Harrogate's flat."

"What the..." John started and he took hold of the photo to get a closer look. Mickey, Ash and Emma moved so they could also see.

"What is it?" Sean asked putting down the last plate at the table.

Emma gulped, "You don't want to know."

The photo was of a dead man. A dead man covered in a lot of blood. There was a message written on the bottom, 'Here is your Murder. M x'.

"Who is it?" John questioned.

Sherlock almost growled, "We don't know. The quality of the photograph and the amount of blood have left identification difficult. Lestrade and I have been through missing person files but there was no match."

"So..." Ash began but Sherlock took back hold of the photograph and stated forcefully,

"We need Gareth Harrogate. He holds the answers."

There was a moment of silence for a moment as everyone let this new development sink in. It was Mrs Hudson who broke it;

"Well, you can't do anything on an empty stomach," She looked pointedly at Sherlock, "So why don't you all just settle down for a while and enjoy your dinner."

"Yeah," Eddie agreed draining vegetables in the sink, "Its homemade lasagne too"

"Sounds lovely," Emma perked up, "I'll definitely have some."

"I will too," Albert flashed a smile at the landlady and positioned himself next to her at the table.

Within a few minutes they were all sat down around the table tucking into the lovely prepared food. All but one;

"It's been three days, Sherlock." John pointed out, "And even then, it wasn't much."

"I'm fine."

"You should really try some of this," Sean said enthusiastically, "Although, if you don't want yours...can dogs eat lasagne?"

"You are not feeding mine and Edward's hard work to a dog," Mrs Hudson scolded.

John watched his friend; he was stood by the fridge with a look on his face that wasn't frequently seen. On any other person, John would call it confusion. It seemed Sherlock did not quite know what to do with the fact that there were once again people sat round his kitchen table like a sort of dysfunctional family.

John sighed, "You could always take something into the other room?"

Sherlock's eyes stopped scanning and focused on the doctor for a moment. Then taking John by surprise, he pulled up a chair and seated himself next to Mrs Hudson.

Mrs Hudson knew better than to make a fuss at this so she just placed a plate in front of Sherlock without a word.

"Why have you never cooked Lasagne for us before, Ed?" Ash asked.

"I didn't know how until today," Eddie admitted, "Although, don't be getting any ideas. You already take the mick with the amount of cooked breakfasts you eat."

Suddenly the door downstairs crashed open and Lestrade's voice could be heard bellowing up the stairs, "Sherlock!"

Sherlock rose quickly and went to stand on the landing.

Lestrade took a breath when he got to the top, "Gareth Harrogate's sister. She's dead."

...


	14. Regroup and Think

"Is there something wrong?" Ash asked as he took a seat.

Albert set his drink down, "Mickey thinks we need to regroup."

"Hmm," Emma said, "It's been quite a few days."

"Precisely," Mickey agreed, "I thought we should take opportunity of having this place to ourselves to go over the con. Make sure we're all up to speed and know what we're doing."

"Well, the run through at the auction house today was good," Ash began, "he took the convincer and is definitely interested in the statue."

"He did bring an expert with him though," Mickey mused, "We anticipated that but if he brings him again we will have to do a last minute switch."

"That shouldn't be too much of an issue, should it?" Sean asked, "We've done that before."

"No, it shouldn't," Mickey agreed, "We just have to create a distraction." He was looking pointedly at Emma.

"Right, ok," She rolled her eyes, "I'll think of something."

"Of course, this also means that we have to get away quickly," Mickey continued, "With our people pushing up the bidding, we should make a decent profit there and then-"

The door to the flat flew open.

"Sherlock, you could have..." John was saying.

"It was a 3, John. A 3. I am not going to get distracted by a 3 in the middle of an 8," Sherlock told him whilst shrugging off his coat.

"But the poor...Hang on, an 8?" John was incredulous, "You think this is only an 8?"

"At best."

"You must be kidding? This is definitely more than an 8. I mean, you thought that comic book case was a 9?"

"I was rather fond of that case."

"It wasn't a 9, Sherlock."

"It was good enough for you to do that ridiculous blog about. What was it? 'The Geek Interpreter."

"You know, you don't have to actually read my blog, Sherlock."

"You don't have to write it," Sherlock responded as he left to go towards his room.

John scoffed and shouted after him, "You get work via my blog." He sighed and sat down heavily in his chair. It was only then that he seemed to realise there were other people in the room. "Sorry about that."

"No, its fine," Mickey told him, "We were just going over the con."

"Oh right," John said "Do you want me to go?"

"It's your flat, mate," Ash shrugged, "Anyway, you look like you could do with a drink?"

John snorted lightly, "I could do with a holiday."

"Holiday's are boring, John," Sherlock stated as he re-entered the room with his favourite blue dressing gown in place of his suit jacket.

"I doubt you have ever had one," John responded rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. The room descended in a comfortable quite as everyone watched Sherlock carefully rearrange information about the case around the mirror.

"Was the sister murdered?" Sean suddenly spoke up.

"Manslaughter, most likely," Sherlock answered, "Whoever it was had intended to scare but then she fell down the stairs in an attempt to escape and that is ultimately what killed her."

"I still don't understand how you came to that conclusion," John said quietly and with a hint of disbelief.

Sherlock quirked his brow, "The evidence was there, John. You saw it."

"Yeah," John said standing up, "But as usual you saw more than the rest of us." He started towards the kitchen, "Does anyone want a cup of tea?"

A chorus of 'yes's sounded out as everyone gave their order.

"What about the body in Gareth's flat?" Mickey asked, watching Sherlock with interest as the consulting detective sat down and put his hands either side of his head; it was as if he was going to try and pull thoughts from his brain. He had also closed his eyes.

"Sherlock? The body at Gareth's flat?" Mickey tried again but there was still no response. He and the rest of his crew shared a look before Mickey decided to call for John, "John?"

"Hmm," John stuck his head round the corner.

"He's just stopped talking," Emma pointed at Sherlock.

John looked across to his best friend, "Yeah, he does that." He then promptly turned back into the kitchen.

The crew shared another look. "We had questions," Albert stated loudly.

John chuckled as he rounded the corner fully this time, with cups of tea in hand, "Sorry, you missed your time slot." He handed out the cups and then went back for more.

"Couldn't we, you know, poke him," Sean shrugged as he moved to stand by Sherlock.

"No," John said firmly upon re-entering the room, "He's thinking. Leave him be. He'll come back eventually. What did you want to know anyway?"

"If we were any closer to knowing whose body was at Gareth Harrogate's flat?" Mickey said as John handed him a drink. John's began to respond but was cut off-

"Sean!" Emma snapped at her brother who was waving a hand in front of Sherlock's face, "You heard John. Besides he's got his eyes closed."

Sean stepped away, "I don't understand..."

"It's Sherlock," John said as if that was the only explanation needed and he smiled fondly before responding to Mickey's earlier question again, "Henry Logan-Smith- worked as a security guard in one of the many casino's Gareth frequented. Lestrade is following up on his part in all this. Although, Sherlock suspects that he was cheating the casino out of money and got caught."

"Cheating for himself or cheating so he could help Gareth?" asked Ash.

"We don't know yet," John admitted taking a sip of tea.

There was a comfortable silence again.

John suddenly remembered he had interrupted the crew moments before, "So, where are you up too with the con?"

"Running smoothly so far," Mickey told him.

Ash scoffed, "Which means something will probably go horribly wrong tomorrow."

"Ever the optimist, Ash," Albert drawled. Although, they would never admit it but they all felt unsure about this one.

...


End file.
